


I Can't Do It Alone

by bookskitten



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 1920s, F/M, So time to Robin Hood that shit, bonnie & clyde au, early 1920s actually and the french economy is in the toilet, gangster au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 09:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8975053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookskitten/pseuds/bookskitten
Summary: Marinette thought the night would have ended just like any other. Finish the show, change and go back home. She didn't expect a dinner and an offer to join a heist.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This story is based on edendaphne's awesome gangster au! Check it on tumblr: http://edendaphne.tumblr.com/tagged/gangster%21AU
> 
> Meanwhile here is a list of slang that I used in the story:  
> Caper - a criminal act or robbery  
> Bank’s Closed - no kissing or making out  
> Beat it - scam or get lost  
> Beat one’s gums - idle chatter  
> Putting on the Ritz - after the Ritz hotel in Paris; doing something in high style  
> Swanky - Elegant  
> Nifty - great  
> Glad rags - “going out on the town” clothes

Marinette managed to catch her breath a she got off the scene, the hall behind her still roaring with applause. It had been a good show and the hall had been surprisingly full for a Wednesday. Marinette bit her lip, hoping maybe she will get the slightest bonus. Miraculeux might not be in Montmartre, but it was still a very good and frequented night café. And the owner had the decency to give her a little bonus every once in a while, when the place was more crowded than usual. Tikki was always saying people were coming to see Marinette, so she deserved every franc she was getting. With a sigh, she headed towards the little room she sued as a cabin. She just wanted some water and to go home. She could already feel the tiredness catching up with her in the morning, when she will be in the workshop sewing the same bland shirts again and again.

“Lady Luck.”

Marinette turned around, surprised. A couple of meters from her stood their pianist. And it just drowned on Marinette she had no idea what his stage name was. That was the rule in _Miraculeux_. Everybody was getting a Venetian mask along with the costume and a stage name. Tikki said the mysterious allure attracted clients and Marinette wasn’t about to argue with her. She actually preferred it. Even though Lady Luck was such an ironical name for her. She had never been lucky.

The man approached her, the green decorations of his mask glimmering in the dim light of the corridor. Stopping before her, bowing curtly before taking her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles.

“A pleasure to finally be able to speak with you.”

With a snort, Marinette withdrew her hand from his grip. “Bank’s closed. Now, kindly beat it.”

“Wait!” as Marinette continued down the corridor he came after her speed walking next to hear. “Please, that’s not what this was about. I just want to speak with you.”

“Of course you do.” she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“I swear!” he added, walking backwards in front of her. “Please have dinner with me?”

“What, now?” she asked incredulously, halting her walk.

“If that’s alright.” he smiled at her. “It’s on me. I just want to get the chance to speak with you. Please?”

Marinette crossed her arms. One one hand, she’d get a free dinner even if it meant to beat her gums with him. On the other hand, that would mean less sleep. But given she couldn’t even remember when it was the last time she had a proper dinner, she decided she could deal with the tiredness.

“Fine.” his smile could light up the whole hall when he heard that.  
Thirty minutes later, Marinette found herself quite happy she accepted the invitation. And she was actually giggling at one of his jokes. Maybe she could blame the Red Bordeaux for it.

“Alright, alright. I admit, that one was decent.” she declared taking another sip of her drink.

“Merci, my lady. I can die a happy man, knowing I was one of the reasons you laughed.” he professed with a hand over his heart.

Marinette rolled her eyes. There were a couple of things she learned about him in the short amount of time they spent dining together. He had an awful sense of humor, which mostly consisted of lame puns. He loved playing the piano if that wasn’t a given already. He apparently wanted to talk with her since she started working there about a month ago, but never got the chance. He had one of the most beautiful smiles she had ever seen. And she will stop herself here, cause honestly, Marinette didn’t have enough wine in her glass to deal with this kind of thoughts at this late hour.

“Why do you play here?” Marinette questioned, finishing what was left of her food.

“Oh.” he stared at the hall below them, with a fond smile on his face. “I loved playing the piano. And here, I…well…it is a good way to take a break from life, you know?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, curiously. Sure, she could understand that. Being Lady Luck was quite liberating. But she didn’t exactly expect that to be the first thing he’d say. His green eyes shifted from the almost empty cafe bellow back to her.

“What about you?”

“Money.” she blurted out without a second thought. The economy of France was in the toilet and they changed governments more often than rich people changed their socks. Wasn’t it obvious what her answer would be? Given the look he directed towards her, it seemed he was expecting something else.

“Oh, of course.” he fidgeted with his glass. “I was just thinking, well… you dance with so much pathos, I just thought it was a passion that gets you money rather than a simple job you enjoy.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. She did enjoy dancing, but if she could choose a passion that she could work for the rest of her life and get paid for it, it wouldn’t be dancing. Marinette snorted. As if anybody would ever handle her this offer. Returning her attention to him, she stated:

“Most people don’t have the luxury to do what they love. We just struggle to get by.”

He held her gaze, nodding. Then something sparkled in his eyes. “And if you could change it?”

Marinette gave him a skeptical look. “This is my third job. What is there left for me to do? Robb a bank?”

A knowledgeable smirk adorned his features and Marinette averted her gaze. She really didn’t need that look on him. It gave her ideas and she had no time for that nonsense.

“Would you be into that?”

“Excuse me?” she questioned, eyes meeting his once again. Oh, great. That ridiculously attractive smirk was still in place. Bad timing for her to drink wine, it obviously clouded her judgment.

“If you were given the chance, knowing you won’t get caught, would you rob a bank?”

Marinette stared at him incredulously. What, were they playing a stupid possibility game now? She frowned. Robbing a bank… well, the idea of not being caught was appealing enough. And hey, if you were rich enough to put your money in a bank you sure could spare some francs. Wait.

“What would you get out of this?” she asked, heer eyes narrowing in suspicion.

He looked nonchalantly at his still half full glass. “Me? Only the satisfaction.” his green eyes shifted, locking with hers. “But people who barely manage to pay the rent and eat? Lots of things, I’d say.” he leaned back in his chair and waited.

Marinette thought of home and her parents’ tired expressions as they came from the panification factory. She thought of her father, whose right leg had been permanently damaged in The Great War and who walked with a limp. And she knew the smallest mistake from him would mean he’d be fired on spot. She thought of their little room who didn’t do much to keep the warmth in during winter and how they only could afford medical help because Marinette sewed back every piece of clothing the doctor brought to her. Her fist clenched in her lap. Surely those rich folks could spare some diamonds chandeliers and old furniture for her to get her parents a good house and a place to open their own bakery. With a deep breath, she took the wine bottle, gulping some of the drink down, before settling it back on the table. Lord knows she’ll need it.

“You have my attention.”

\-----------

Marinette had moments when she questioned her sanity. Walking down the Parisian streets at one in the morning arm in arm with her new accomplice was certainly one of those moments. One day had passed since he made her the offer and apparently he already had a hiding place for them. But she will be the judge of that.

“I think you’ll like our little hideout. It is really nifty.” he bragged, guiding her along the less crowded streets of Paris. “And I have a getaway car prepared.”

“A car?” Marinette asked incredulously. “Are you adding auto theft to our possible future list of crimes?

“This one is not stolen, I swear. Trust me, it is perfect for our plan. I’ll get the blueprints of the bank pretty soon as well.”

Marinette side glanced at him, not managing to make out any expressions. They still had their masks on. It was such an odd combination, Lady Luck’s mask and Marinette’s worn out clothes. But she didn’t have time to think about that now.

“I don’t even want to know where you get all these from. If you are in a gang, I swear to fucking God…”

“Not a gang, my lady,” he reassured her. “Just some good friends.”

Marinette sighed. She said from the start that she isn’t getting involved in the gang. She was only fine with this if it was strictly the two of them.

“By the way, my lady, you still don’t have my name,” he remarked and Marinette blinked, surprised. That was true. She still forgot to ask him, goddammit. She is organizing a robbery with a partner whose name she didn’t even know. Dieu. Sensing her realization, he looked down at her and smirked. “You can call me Chat Noir.”

“Chat Noir?” she questioned, looking up at him. That couldn’t be his scene name, she was sure.

“That’s me. You know, we have to put on the ritz for this heist. We need codenames. So this is mine. What’s yours?”

Marinette looked at him incredulously. He was so over the top sometimes. But nicknames, nicknames could be a good idea. It still kept their identity secret. She thought for a moment. She needed something short and nice. Surely she couldn’t use Lady Luck, that would be a dead giveaway. She bit her lip, thinking about an option. Then it hit her.

“Ladybug.,” she said, with a small smile. “A black cat needs some luck to balance him out, right?”

“That, my lady, is spot on.” Marinette groaned. God knows with how many more lame puns she will have to put up now. “Now about our costumes.”

“Costumes?” that stirred her interest.

“Well, of course. We need some swanky costumes to fit with our code names. Of course, we can’t just buy them from a street vendor, but we also can’t order them in a private workshop because…”

“I can make them.” she interrupted, surprising him. “But the materials I have are pretty worn out.”

He stopped her by pulling her left hand and shoving a bunch of francs in her palm. Marinette’s eyes were about to pop out of her head. Was he insane? She just gave her enough money to buy the whole booth of a street vendor. Or more.

“I trust you will make us some really ritzy glad rags, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course.” she finally said, shoving the money in the pocket of her coat.

Chat extended his arm and Marinette accepted it, continuing their walk. Honestly, she had no idea where they were going, but at this point, it didn’t really matter. Any good hiding spot would calm her down. They couldn’t fuck this up. She didn’t even want to think about that possibility.

“And we are here,” Chat announced while stopping in front of the door of an old building. They were in the inner garden of an old building complex. It didn’t look that bad, which surprised here. She expected something more sleazy.

Following him up the stairs, Marinette noticed how oddly quiet the place was. Was everybody asleep?

“Nest sweet nest.” Chat sighed dramatically, unlocking the door of one of the apartments and inviting her in.

Marinette took in the room. It wasn’t that big, but it had enough space for everything they needed. there was a bed shoved in one of the corners and across from it was an old piano. Some cupboards and a table close to the balcony door. A floor length mirror was there too for whatever reason. Marinette moved the curtain, noticing their balcony had easy access to the roof. It was a good escape route. 

“So what do you think?”

Marinette turned to Chat with a small smile. “Pretty nifty. What’s in these…”

Marinette froze when she opened one of the cupboards, only to find a couple of guns.

“Weapons, of course. I’m sure your incredible beauty would pull anyone under your charm, but it won’t help us too much in this case.” he explained pulling out the guns and scattering them on the table.

Marinette wanted to slap herself. She didn’t give too much thought to the fact she will have a gun. She will possibly shoot someone. The idea wasn’t very appealing.

“Don’t worry my lady,” Chat said, noticing her distress. He took one of the small pistols and put the barrel against his palm. Then pulled the trigger. Marinette almost let out a scream. Until she noticed he didn’t have a hole in his hand. Instead, it was covered in fuchsia paint. Chat looked at her, waiting for a reaction. “Well?”

“That color shade makes me want to pull out my eyes with a spoon.”

Chat smiled at her. “A woman after my own heart.”

\-----------

Looking in the mirror, Marinette could say she was really happy with how their outfits turned out. She made them casual, easy to move in, especially her skirt which was scandalously revealing her calfs. They already traded the scene masks for the more simple ones she made. Looking in the mirror, she wasn’t Marinette. She was Ladybug, the thief. Dieu, she could hardly believe she was actually doing that.

“So what do you have to say?” she turned to Chat Noir who was busy doing some theatrical poses.

“I say that I heard you like guns. ” he flexed his arms. “Check out mine, my lady.”

Marinette sighed, exasperated. God, he was such an idiot. But he was still her partner. “I’m serious Chat.”

Dropping the act, he smiled at her. “I love them! They are the cat’s meow. Honestly, you should open an atelier.”

One day, she might. One day.

“Don’t forget your pièce de résistance.” she added giving him the hat she made. She wondered if she’d notice the little detail she sew into it

“Are…are these cat ears?” he questioned once he took a look at the hat.

“Precisely.” she said smugly.

Chat fell to his knees in front of her, then extended his hands as if he wanted to hug the whole world. “Marry me! I beg you, my lady, marry me.”

Marinette rolled her eyes at his antics. “ Let’s succeed with this caper and I may consider it.”

She could have sworn he just got ten times more motivated, if the look in his eyes was anything to go by.

\--------------

“Can’t sleep?”

She looked up at Chat, lurking around the dark room just like his namesake.

They agreed to sleep in the hideout that night. Easier for them to be ready in the morning. The matress was more comfortable than the one she had home and yet, she couldn’t sleep. There were butterflies in her stomach and not the good kind. It was silly. They had everything planned. There was nothing to worry that much about.

”Buginette?” Chat’s voice was laced with concern.

”You are awfully calm. Are you sure you didn’t rob banks before?” she questioned, trying to change the topic.

Chat snorted. “Not at all. Unless I did it in my sleep. But not even I am that skilled.” his tone changed from cocky to soft. “Lay back down, please.”

Marinette did as he said. Isn’t like she had many options anyway. It surprised her however when the room filled with music. Chat smiled over his shoulder at her. The piano was old, but it didn’t stop him from creating wonderful music. He was amazing at that, she had no problem admitting it. She felt her eyes close as the song continued. The last thing she recalled before slipping in a deep slumber was Chat’s voice.

”Sweet dreams, Buginette.”

\---------

The plan was easy, honestly. Get in through the back. She has to go to the guard at the entrance and pretend to ask him something, when, in fact, she will use a handkerchief soaked in chloroform, to knock the guard out. Then lock the door. So far so good. Her heart was beating at an alarming pace, but she had to keep it under control. Taking her gun out, she pointed in the direction of the three clients who were in the bank.

“You three, move it.” she said indicating towards what she guessed must have been a closet.

The three exchanged frightened glances before proceeding. With a satisfied smirk, Ladybug pushed them in the closet before blocking the door with a broom. She didn’t need them to get out and brings the cops. Strutting to the other side of the hall, she went around the counter towards the back where Chat had one of the bankers at gunpoint. She almost felt bad for the poor man, he was sweating nervously while opening the vault. Clearly, having a rifle at your temple must be distressing.

“Ah, my lady! Just in time. This good man was just opening the vault for us.”

Just then, the safe’s door opened and Marinette grinned. They entered the vault, and began to open the metal drawers, filling their bags with money and jewels. Five minutes. They had a time limit set, enough for them to escape before the police came so they won’t end up in a car chase. Or so they hoped.

Distracted by filling her bag and trying to keep up with the plan, she didn’t notice the banker sneaking up behind her. Not at first. Quickly, she spun around and fired three times, getting him in the face, neck, and chest. The man stumbled back, obviously surprised. Then, after he managed to get the paint out of his eyes, he looked surprised, obviously not expecting this.

“Is this supposed to scare me?” he asked incredulously.

“Um, of course.” came Chat’s replay from the other side of the vault.

“But given you decided to wear a striped orange and yellow tie with a blue suit, it probably doesn’t affect you as much as it should.” Ladybug stated, before kicking the man in the crotch.

Once he fell to his knees, obviously in pain, she hit the back of his head with her gun. That should put him to sleep for a while.

“Come on! Let’s get out of here!” she gathered her bag and run out, Chat following closely behind.

\-----------------------

She still couldn’t believe they made it. Their first heist and it had been so nifty the cops didn’t even arrive before they got in the car and sped away. She couldn’t be happier. She still felt the need to scream in joy whenever she saw the piles of money on the table. For the first time in years, the future didn’t look so gloomy.

”My lady? Buginette?” Chat looked at her, the joy caused by the successful heist, mixing up with what seemed to be worry for her.

Marinette wasn’t sure what made her do it. Maybe the adrenaline still running through her veins. Maybe it was the memory of him singing her to sleep the previous night. Maybe it was that stupid charming smirk of his. Or the fact that she was drunk on victory. Whatever it was, it made her jump in Chat’s arms and lock her lips with his. They ended up in a mess of tangled limbs on the floor, but neither cared. They didn’t break the kiss for a good amount of time, Chat’s arms wrapping securely around her waist while her fingers were in his hair. They could barely catch their breath once they pulled apart.

”Does that mean you accept to marry me?” he was smiling from ear to ear

”Now, now Chaton.” she teased while tapping his nose. “I said I may consider it. A few more successful heists and I may say yes.” she smirked down at him. “So what do you say, partner? Are you ready?”

Chat smirked, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

”As ready as I’ll ever be, love.“


End file.
